


The Shang Yuan Don't Sing Lullabies

by jazzfic



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-23
Updated: 2005-11-23
Packaged: 2019-04-29 07:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14468175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzfic/pseuds/jazzfic
Summary: Why River fears the night, and why she wants to change.Thanks to madjm for the beta.





	The Shang Yuan Don't Sing Lullabies

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Firefly’s Glow](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Firefly%27s_Glow), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Firefly's Glow collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/fireflysglow/profile).

The Shang Yuan Don't Sing Lullabies

## The Shang Yuan Don't Sing Lullabies

Nighttime is for solitude, when everything is still and at rest and talk and action turn into sleep, but for River these are falsehoods, every last one. At night she is unerringly awake, and justly so; at night she has to be stronger than the rest, for it is at night when she is most alone. 

You see, the crazy never dream. They have no desires to run to. Their lot is to lie prone and unmoving, staring into some imaginary world, but they won't go there. They can't. Dreams are a door into normality, a place where there are no shadows waiting to pounce, no restraints, no rules. 

So River doesn't sleep. She waits and she knows this is not a game--if it was a game there would be the door, and in her palm the key. 

Tonight she wanders with little purpose, and would for hours continue unstopped except that some luck leads her bare feet to the cockpit, where the ship is on autopilot and following only the stars; it is the sight of this that greets River, hovering like a ghost at the threshold, and there she smiles. If she and Serenity can chase the stars together, River thinks, for a while she can pretend she isn't alone, and maybe the night will pass more swiftly. 

She takes a step in, and that's when she sees him. 

"I know you're there." He turns slightly, his profile visible only by the lights of the controls. "Would know those teeny footsteps anywhere..." 

Much of her life might have been a torment of lies, but Malcolm Reynolds is not one of them. The Captain is a rock, a weight in the close world she inhabits, and River understands this, perhaps even to the point where understanding stops and things just are. It has been this way from the beginning--ever since she escaped that frozen hibernation and took her place on Serenity with Simon, she has seen him only in bright focus, a mirror sharp point of light consoling her mind when it has stretched too far into hazy confusion. 

Now he is here, just as strongly, and she thinks this cannot be an accident. 

"Are you comin' in, or are you just waitin' to pounce?" 

She hesitates. In the eyes of this eclectic family River knows she is seen differently by all, the common thread--that being her strangeness--jumping from the protective embrace of her brother, to, in their communal voice of reason that is Jayne, 'that crazy loon-girl'. She is not still so far apart that words can't speak to her. It's these things that force her to grow. 

But River knows something else: if all hold her away from life, she will shrink. She will disappear faster than the stars in Serenity's wake. And sometimes--just sometimes--all she needs is to be treated without kid gloves or hypodermic needles. Then they will see. 

Mal, now turned fully in the co-pilot's chair, has let the smile fade but his eyes catch hers, deep in the shadows. Caught in this gaze River lets her feet carry her towards the forward console, unsure if it is still the stars that are drawing her in. There she finds her voice. "You're not sleeping?" Her toes press into the cool floor, and she is still again. "The night should be alone. So should I." 

"Well, we mightn't all prowl about as a tomcat like you do, but it does happen on occasion a man'll do nothin' but while the wee hours thinkin'." He crosses his arms and leans back, considering her. "River...why are you here?" 

"Stars fly, I can't. Small footsteps, big bad world...no dreams." 

His laugh patters her ears and just as quickly vanishes. "So I can't sleep and you won't." In a quick movement that surprises her he shifts forward, shoulder brushing her thigh, and cocks his head conspiratorially. "You might mask your thoughts behind that straight-jacket mind of yours, but you forget I can hide just as well as you. Wanna ride shotgun into the night, little bird? Is that it?" 

She wonders, just for a moment, if some curiosity of Mal's has been satisfied when he speaks in this manner. She also wonders if perhaps she hasn't already imagined, in the small hours when she should have been prisoner to her nightly seclusion, what her answer might be. 

Air whistling a sigh through her teeth, she smiles deep inside, though it does not reach her lips. "Always." 

Without a word he vacates his chair and reaches past her to the pilot's console, tapping swiftly. River, still unmoving, feels his suspender buckle press a metallic kiss onto her bare arm and her toes curl again in unconscious response. It surprises her, and with her reactions already wound tight as a spring she is jolted forward. At the same time the Captain turns back--too late to see he stands up straight; River is suddenly very, very close, and for a moment they are motionless, locked in this strange pose. She is so much smaller that her world is filled quite completely with, of all things, his shirt. It is as unromantic a view as River's near-gone adolescence can conjure and she is forced to bite down on her tongue to stop herself laughing out loud. Mal's shirt is rust red; River can see one button coming loose in the middle. Then she feels his breath graze her forehead, and wonders how she had ever thought to laugh. 

"River--" There is an uncharacteristic catch in his throat as he steps back. She closes her eyes and can feel the empty space where he has just been; a shiver ripples through her body instinctively, and when she looks again he is waving a hand in her general direction. River turns, uncertain if he is indicating the seat or two of Wash's dinosaurs, perched ready to attack at her elbow. "There y'are. I'll just be...I'll be here." 

She sinks before the console. Her hands grasp the controls; Serenity purrs and she knows this is a good place to be. 

"You don't trust me." The seat is warm, fuzzy and soft where River's skin touches it, and she thinks Mal has been here already tonight. An image of him sitting in the dark presses itself in her mind, a man alone, but his solitude is voluntary, accepted, while hers is a prison enforced. She wonders if he too cries inside when the stars burn. "You give me space, allow me chances. But I don't know if that yet runs to trust." 

"Then I'd say you were wrong." 

She whips her head to stare, ready to contradict him but the words dissolve at her lips. His hands, still on the console, draw her eyes and Mal lifts his little finger, tap, tap, and he is staring straight ahead, completely at ease. Why, River asks herself, biting down on her tongue and tasting iron--tasting Serenity--why, when she has forsaken real life in order to live, can she not deter this man as she has every agent, every drug, every intrusive touch? It aches. It is a remnant of emotion she wants, god she wants...and yet-- 

And yet she has never been so afraid of herself, of a tiny, little feeling, as she is now. 

He is still staring at the black. "You ain't gonna ask me why?" he continues, amused at her silence. 

Except it isn't a little feeling. Not anymore. "I thought..." Again her mouth betrays her. She wants to scream. This is not right; she is not like this. Hesitations, fear, are no more a part of River Tam than an easy handshake with the law is to the Captain; there should be no silence. What River knows, she tells. What River understands, she gives. What River fears, she keeps. As much as it speaks simplicity and truth, it should not be this difficult. "I thought I knew what you were," she whispers. 

She lets go of the controls. Serenity drops. 

"Whoa! Keep a hold on there." He is up and leaning against her in a flash; the hands she had stared at so just a moment past reach over her lap to the steering mechanism, grasping Serenity, pulling her gently back to a level keel. Mal can switch from contemplation to action in a heartbeat; his feelings are controlled, tucked away, and so he is aware of the practicalities. His shoulder presses tightly against hers but she can barely feel it. River is ashamed. She wants Serenity back, but is suddenly afraid that her handling of the ship is so tied to her newborn feelings that being undone by one will let the other fall away. They are so alike that she can no longer weigh the separation. 

He is still near, outwardly reluctant to pull away from her side; now he removes his hands and she can feel his eyes, studying her, and she is thankful for the fact that she is the only reader in this room. "Okay?" His tone drops carefully--possibly he is both wary of her general state as much as keeping the ship in one happy piece, but to River it's more akin to concern, and she reacts automatically. 

"She is as you want her to be." 

Mal blinks, confused. "Don't follow, darlin'..." 

"Your worry is the starlight," she explains. "It warms the dark and makes Serenity sing." 

"River, please." A tired sigh washes over his eyes, melting the blue. He sits back on his haunches, head tilted down, one hand still on her console. River creeps her fingers like a spider so they touch his wrist where the bones and sinew show; Mal jerks back but she is faster and she catches him, leans forward and whispers onto the skin. 

"Listen, she is singing for us now. We mustn't make her cry." 

"Hao le ma!" Mal pulls his hand away as her lips make contact. Her cheek passes through thin air, coming to rest on the throttle and she feels movement underneath her as he quickly flicks the autopilot back on, disabling the controls. She gazes dark eyes at his shadow through fluttering lashes, watching him stand. She cannot see her reflection in his boots because they are worn and heavy but she can see his fate in the nicks and scratches, his memories in the dusty tread. 

He speaks low, to himself. "Wode tian, I gotta sleep..." There is a drawn silence. River's eyes have migrated to his knees--there is a long scrape of dirt on his breeches but she cannot identify it further. Perhaps it is blood. 

The smudge flexes into a grimace; he kneels on the floor and his face comes into view. He tries to peer past the shimmering curtain that has fallen darkly over her face. "It's gone late, River. What say we let Serenity take care of herself for a time." There is an amused flicker at the corners of his mouth as he fails this and with a small sigh pushes a wave of hair out of her eyes. 

"She will cry if we hide," she returns bluntly. "But you cannot hear, so you don't believe." 

Mal turns away, the smile fading so rapidly it cuts the air. "Okay, afraid you've lost me, little one. Stay and prophesise the night away--I'm turnin' in." 

Her eyes hover on his retreating figure; one, two, three steps, and River will be alone again. She realises if she makes no move now by the next night and every night hereafter he will have forgotten. 

She touches her temple where his fingers grazed her skin, finds a warm patch in the cold. When she speaks her voice is clear. 

"Wait." 

He is at the hatchway and half-turns, one hand hesitantly resting on the bulkhead. She covers the distance between in three floating steps and reaches for that hand, folding it lightly between both of hers. "You don't believe," she repeats, and presses his palm to her chest. Mal's skin is warm; the tips of his fingers graze her collarbone, and River concentrates deeply. Her heartbeat is like a moth, gossamer wings beating silently in the dark, but it is as strong as her intellect, and its focus she directs now at him alone. "But I can make you." 

If there are words to be said here at first Mal doesn't try, but when his decision is made he grasps her hands and gently pulls his own away. 

"That's something then you're gonna have to teach me." Hands now free he moves them to her face, pauses, and then in one movement closes the gap between them and touches his lips to her forehead. River, feeling her breath catch, flutters with the moth as it jumps around inside her. "But..." He breaks away. "But not yet. We have'ta--we should wait a while, River, okay?" The last is murmured an infinitesimal distance from her lips; she can taste his breath, she wants to inhale it because her own has deserted her. 

"Do you swear it?" He steps away and she folds her arms, echoing his sudden businesslike stance. "Time is a jagged capsule when feelings go to rest. It can make them disappear. You believe this is worthy of that?" 

He meets her gaze steadily, taking his time to reply; when it comes it is the same Mal but also a different Mal, a silent, wounded, gallant man who stares unblinking into her eyes, allowing the smallest of smiles to break the unruffled facade. "That," he says quietly, "I think you already know." 

He leaves, and she makes no further move after him. She knows he will sleep tonight--what's left of the night, that is--and she is happy for it. In a while, when she tires of the stars and the deep, she will follow his direction. She has some hope now; though she can see the key she won't reach for it. 

She has pretended long enough. 

River knows the shang yuan don't sing lullabies. But those who mend them sometimes do. 

End. 

Shang Yuan -- Wounded person or persons Wode tian -- Oh God  
Hao le ma -- Okay/That's enough

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Title:   **The Shang Yuan Don't Sing Lullabies**   
Author:   **Jazzfic**   
Details:   **Standalone**  |  **PG**  |  **gen**  |  **12k**  |  **11/23/05**   
Characters:  Malcolm, River   
Pairings:  Mal/River   
Summary:  Why River fears the night, and why she wants to change.   
Thanks to madjm for the beta.   
  



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